Bittersweet Consolation Prize
by kwyernerd
Summary: A one-shot written in House's POV based off of the end of the episode "Joy"


I sat at my piano….trying to think of anything but her, yet she was all that I seemed to occupy my mind. As I mindlessly played nameless tunes and sipped bourbon, I thought back to earlier that evening…

It was about the time that the hospital began to empty and settle down….when the clinic closes…the annoying visitors leave…and the doctors rushed home to their perfect little homes with their perfect little families. I had diagnosed my patient and both he and his daughter were being treated…I had no reason to stay. Normally I would be running…well limping…out of that damn hospital. Any other evening I'd be eager to get out of there and go to my quiet little apartment, down a glass or two…or three... of bourbon, and immerse myself in some mind numbing activity. But not tonight… instead I made my way to the last place anybody would expect me to go.

Most people would think odd for me to be standing in the maternity ward…. Watching… most people would look at the babies through that glass…but I was never most people….no.

I was watching HER.

I watched her as she sobbed…as she held that baby's hand…as she tried to cling to her dream that was just shreds of what was nearly hers…

She wanted what every woman seems to want…a conventional family…. But resigned herself to just a child…if she couldn't get the whole dream she still wanted part… part was better than nothing right? Even I understood that. Hell part of me wanted it. Which is why it hurt me to watch her hurt. She was so distraught… the aching and longing in her eyes…. That same longing I felt when I watched her…. deep down I wanted to be part of her dream… I was jealous of that little parasite…that tiny helpless being that craps on itself… how sick is that!

I wanted that look….

I was jealous then and I was jealous before….and though I would never admit it, I was afraid… afraid the changes I knew that little thing would bring…to her…to the hospital…to _us_….and I took it out on her…because she's tough…she can handle it…she's always been able to…since the day we met…

I said awful things to her…I acted like a twelve year old idiot fighting for attention…because it helped me feel better…released some of those stupid irrational feelings… and I knew she'd be ok…she might hate me but she'd be ok…she'd have her little brat…she'd have what she wanted…and would be happy… or so I thought….

I'm not sure when I had stopped playing but at that moment I was pulled from my thoughts by the irrepressible need to go to her…somehow make up for the hurt I had caused…it was illogical and irrational...but I had to go. I took one more gulp of bourbon, grabbed my cane, jacket, and helmet and walked out the front door.

I was pulling up in front of her house before I started thinking again… didn't know what the hell I was doing…so I sat there on my bike staring at the front door. I ran through possible scenarios….finally figured _I'm here…what the hell…might as well make sure she's ok_….I slowly made my way to her front door…used my cane to knock… I stood there waiting...and waiting…and waiting for her to open that stupid door…. And when she did…. I wished I hadn't knocked.

She wasn't ok….she was far from ok. She looked like shit…

She stepped away from the door….away from me…and gave me a look that said that I was the last person she wanted to see right then….and she told me not to gloat.

I couldn't blame her…and I wasn't really surprised that she would think that was the only reason I was there…not after all the crap I pulled….but at the same time… it hurt… it made me feel like shit….she really couldn't see that I came there because I wanted to help…to make things right.

I took a deep breath and stepped inside…silently wondering what the fuck I was doing….

I tried to make a joke…tell her that there were plenty of other bastard children she could adopt…but she wouldn't hear it…she said she couldn't go through this again…that she was done.

And as much as I had wanted her to give up before…because I was selfish… I was there for HER now….I knew she would make a brilliant mother…. and I needed to tell her…

She didn't react to that like I thought she would… it pissed her off….she turned to me…hurt and frustrated that I needed to negate everything…she asked me why….boring into me with her cold steel-grey eyes…but what I saw in her eyes was more than just anger…she truly needed to know…and with her intense stare on me…imploring….I didn't deflect…. I answered honestly….I really didn't know….

At my confession something in her gaze shifted…there was more…there was a soft, warm yearning…a thirst for comfort….something that gave me hope… and courage… I slowly stepped toward her…without analyzing or over thinking… to my surprise she grabbed my neck and pulled me to her…like she was trying to smother her sorrows with my lips…she kissed me with fervor…with a hunger that told me that she wanted this as much as I did…

…and that scared me.

I realized that if this was going to mean something for both of us…I wanted her to know it was more than just for that moment….I wasn't there to take advantage of her vulnerability….so I pulled away… and looked into her eyes…as dazed and confused as mine….unsure of how to tell her this… I said goodnight.

And I walked away.


End file.
